MUSEUMS IN THE THIRD WORLD

How are historical artefacts looked after in the Third World? It’s true that they don’t get destroyed but very often they’re left to rot in sparse, run-down museums with flickering lights that nobody visits. On what many Third World Museums are like 🧵
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Moving past the question of ‘should they be returned?’, many Westerners and Diaspora Groups agitating for returns have an skewed idea of what the Third World museums these artefacts would be returned to are actually like. They are not the same kind of museum you find in the west Image
For one, the general condition of the museums; these are often in small or underutilised buildings and are empty, sparsely decorated and badly labelled. The displays are frequently poor and uninformative. The museums are often grimy and not well-maintained, have flickering lights Image
Having had the opportunity to visit lots of these places, the other thing you notice is the lack of local visitors. You will be in a national museum and there will be nobody there, locals seemingly uninterested. It would be fair to say a museum-going culture doesn’t really exist Image
I don’t think this is just a product of the British stealing their artefacts or being poor. My experience is a culture of ‘inquisitiveness’ doesn’t really exist in many of these places. I remember actively trying to find a bookshop in Addis Ababa and only being able to find one Image
The general disrepair and emptiness, the lack of locals - it’s not obvious that many people in these countries actually care that much. Their diasporas might for identity-forming reasons but my impression is that artefacts returned to the Third World would be infrequently visited Image
It’s true that museums in Asia are generally better than in Africa and that there is a lot of variation in quality depending on where you are. But these same rules generally apply, just to a lesser extent. Eg. The National Museum in Delhi, India I remember being disappointed with Image
To stress again, there are lots of good Third World Museums - A lot of S. America’s pre-Columbian museums are very good, MENA museums like Tunisia’s Bardo, Qatar’s Islamic, Cairo’s Egyptian Museum (organisationally a mess inside but a lot to see). But IMO general rule still holds Image
Though - even in places that do preserve heritage, you see a lot of botched restoration work. China is infamous for this, in the Silk Road countries for instance there are lots of slap-dash cement job restorations. Some restoration work is well done but a lot of it is very shoddy Image
In all, a British-Nigerian or African-American living in the west might suddenly become passionate about getting an Ife Head returned to Nigeria but if it does get returned it’s unlikely to be visited or looked after as well. Maybe beside the point for activists, but the reality
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To add, my other impression is that the diaspora groups care more about pushing for these kinds of returns than the people in the actual countries themselves - but YMMV Image
David Frum on the Benin Bronzes being returned to Nigeria’s Lagos History Museum: theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/…
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South Africa's richest family had to remove African art on permanent loan from a Johannesburg gallery because it was not being take care of
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More from @kunley_drukpa

Apr 29
Very normal thing for an American to care deeply about with no ulterior motives. Instantly joins the pantheon of ‘Most American Quotes Ever Made’ by the great American political figures Image
A great American tradition Image
Search ‘Mahajanapadas’, axial age Indian republics governed by non-monarchical republican assemblies. You can trace direct intellectual genealogy from these states to the foundation of the American republic; Franklin, Jefferson and Adams etc said they were their main inspiration Image
Read 4 tweets
Apr 29
Sounds like I am making this up but I remember sitting under the tree the Buddha attained enlightenment under and realising in my head that because of many of my experiences in India (and elsewhere) I had been radicalised into having a much more pessimistic view of ‘human nature’ Image
About giving up on ‘Star Trek Liberalism’
Has been suggested Buddhism evolved as an elaborate mental cope for Sensitive Young Brahmins and Kshatriyas having to live in the kinds of conditions you often find in a place like India Image
Read 4 tweets
Apr 29
THE INDIAN TRAVEL EXPERIENCE 🇮🇳

Few years ago now when I was India I used to use public transport to travel the long distances between cities - buses, trains etc. Was rarely a pleasant experience because there was always some kind of low-level of dysfunctionality but it was still mostly tolerable if you didn’t mind pissing into a bottle. Occasionally would have bad trips though, worst was between the holy city of Varanasi (where Shiva established the cosmic centre of the universe) and the holy city of Bodh Gaya (where the Buddha attained Enlightenment)

Had been in Varanasi, by the Ganges, for a few days. Depending on who you ask the Ganges is either the embodiment of the Goddess Ganga or a de facto open sewer where burnt corpses and human waste wash over the worshipers who wade into the river to pray and bathe. (Seeing actual human corpses being burnt in front of your eyes on the ghats is a strange experience, can talk more about that another time though. Won’t forget the sight anyway - didn’t expect human bodies to burn quite like that ie extremities first, torso last)

After I left my hotel had a bumpy 30 minute tuk tuk ride through honking, swerving traffic to an intersection near the bus station where a flyover had recently collapsed, trapping and crushing many people. A lot of people dead. Driver stopped near the rubble and said oh you have to walk 2 minutes down this road to get to the bus station. It seemed a lot with a heavy bag but still doable. Turned out I had to walk 20 minutes along a dirty roadside and of course there were loud honking horns, people shouting at me etc along the way. Was very hot, really wanted to punch someone

I get to the bus station sweating, agitated and tired and ask “Sasaram, Sasaram”. (City where I wanted to go first.) People just shake their head. Walk around for 15 minutes and people keep saying no, no. Eventually a tuk tuk driver comes up to me and asks if I need a tuk tuk. I ask if the Sasaram bus is nearby and he says other side of town, back the way I came. We go back down exactly the same road, even driving along the road right next to the hotel I had stayed. Another 15 minutes to get to a muddy field where the buses go to Sasaram. Note - reason I wanted to go to Sasaram and not Bodh Gaya directly is Indian state boundaries mean buses don’t go directly there. Varanasi is in Uttar Pradesh and Bodh Gaya is in Bihar. Sasaram is right on the border of Bihar, when you get there you have to take further transportation. In theory you can drive Varanasi to Bodh Gaya in 5 hours, which is long but not ‘long’ long

Wait in the muddy field for 30 minutes for whatever reason then finally we go. Driver starts driving into oncoming traffic before building up enough speed to accelerate over the raised pavement that separates the two road directions, was about 5 minutes of driving on the wrong side of the road in all. He took the raised pavement to hop back to the correct side like it was a ramp in Mario Kart. Nobody cared. 3 hours later, crammed in the bus in the dark we arrive in the grimy and in that a way a little intimidating Sasaram. The city and surrounds were visibly very very poor, there is litter everywhere etc

At the bus station they say there is no bus onwards to Bodh Gaya, I must go by train. Concept of a bus to a major nearby city seemed confusing for some people. And apparently the train was the same train I could have caught in Varanasi anyway. I have to walk out the bus station, down a dark, creepy-looking track past some slums and then across live railway lines to get to the station. Here they only have general standing tickets available, so I pay 65 rupees (>$1) because no other alternative. Was hungry but the only food available to buy anywhere near the station was biscuits so I had biscuits and coca cola for my evening meal. It was dark now too so I went to sit under the one working lamp on my train platform. Would still need to wait 90 minutes for my train to arrive

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Waited, bored but naively expecting the train to arrive on time. Of course this is India and karma for my hubris soon caught up to me when a teenager I was talking to (actually he was very nice and helpful - he said Sasaram had once been the proud capital of the ‘Sur Dynasty’, also he was sleeping in the station until 6am to catch his train assuming it was on time. Actually the station was full of Indians sleeping on the floor overnight for similar reasons, must have been at least 50 people there) told me the train would be 30 minutes late. Ok... annoying. 30 minutes later, oh it comes in 30 more minutes. 30 minutes later, oh it comes in 30 minutes. Finally it arrives, 11:30pm - hours after its scheduled arrival time. Except it’s full, it’s a complete crush inside… not desperate to get in something like that in India

He says, oh wait 15 and there is another better one - the one that left Varanasi four hours after the train that had just arrived was due soon, almost on time. That is, because it hadn’t been delayed it would arrive only 15 minutes after the first train. It arrives and I take it, finally on the train. Train has a little more space available but the tiered shelf-seats in basic class are still otherwise stacked like a warehouse, plus it’s dingy and dirty too. We set off but the train keeps stopping for a long time at every station along the route. Finally, after about 90 minutes (1am) it stops at Rafiganj, a small village maybe 40km from Bodh Gaya. I wait, expecting it to move soon

30 minutes later it still hasn’t moved so because it is stifling, smells of BO inside I go outside on the platform for some fresh air. I wait 30 more minutes. Nothing. Nobody speaks English. They just shrug. I am tired and angry, at the end of my tether. Phone battery almost dead. A group of men walk past, they have a little English. They say oh, signal failure, maybe the train will leave at 5am (so 6am I think). Almost crying. I ask if they have tuk tuks outside the station? At this point would pay for an overpriced taxi just to get to bed and sleep. He says no, this is a village and the countryside around it is very dangerous, there are many bandits here so nobody will drive me until morning. I am trapped

Had given up but then thought to ring my guesthouse in Bodh Gaya to ask them to send a taxi. While they nominally spoke English they didn’t really seem to understand the words I was saying, it took them a while to understand the concept of sending a taxi out to collect me that I was trying to convey. Eventually though they seemed to understand and said they will check if it was possible. I wait 15 then phone them up and they said the driver they normally use wasn’t responding, probably he had fallen asleep. Sorry. Suddenly someone says the train will leave again in 10 minutes. I said to the receptionist I might call him back, he said not possible because he was going to sleep. I wait 20 minutes and finally, at almost 3am, the train leaves. Takes another 30 minutes to arrive at the edge of Gaya (city within which Bodh Gaya is located) and then 30 more in a tuk tuk to get to Bodh Gaya (overpaid but was really late so didn’t care - also made throwaway comment the driver lectured me in a genuinely angry tone about; my mispronouncing Rama in a British accent: Ram-a not my Rar-ma), where my guesthouse is. Exhausted. Arrived 12 hours later than intended at 4am

[2/3]Image
Woke up after a terrible sleep to find bites along my stomach and thighs. I thought I had felt something crawling on me in the night but I was exhausted and couldn’t see anything so I assumed it was nothing. Looked at the bed, there were ants crawling around near the pillow. A load of ants had scuttled over me in the night and bitten me. Was shocked but at the same time unsurprised. Felt quite woozy - as though I had contracted something from an insect bite perhaps - but just shrugged it off because I was so far gone at that point

Decided to take a walk and have some lunch before I went to see the tree the Buddha was sat under when he reached enlightenment. The town was deserted and the restaurants and shops were mostly closed though there was one in the basement of a hotel that was open. I go in and there are four Indians sleeping on the sofa in the dark. When they see me they jolt up, switch on the lights and sit me down. As I sit down a rat runs across the floor. I open the menu they give me and ants crawl out. Again, inured to it all at this point I don’t really care. To avoid food poisoning I decided not to have the meat but the toast and porridge seemed fine (it’s 2pm in the afternoon at this point). 10 minutes later there is a power cut and I eat my toast in the dark. Finish my lunch then have strong urge to rush to the toilet (humid and hot inside because no fan - makes me sweat from the heat) and evacuate my bowels. Presumably something I ate

You would think you could find a few hours respite in all of this where something didn’t go wrong but no it was non-stop. Only finally able to relax when I reached the Buddha’s tree and was able to slump down on the floor nearby

[3/3]Image
Read 4 tweets
Apr 29
Aaaaahhhhh these western books depict such full and carefree lives aaahhhh I’m so deeply resentful and jealous ahhhhh I can’t stand these western books anymore ahhhh their dreams and aspirations are so real and tangible I can’t stand it I can’t stand ittt I’m goinggg insaannnneee
When I first read Dino Buzzati’s ‘The Tartar Steppe’ I was so violently sick that my family had to call an ambulance. I spent a week in a hospital bed on a drip recovering
Yes. See also the great but difficult to find Italian film adaptation ‘Il deserto dei Tartari’ (1976). Mean great here in the sense of I had to go to therapy for months after I finished watching it Image
Read 4 tweets
Apr 28
Voicenotes are default mode of message app communication for most non-WEIRD groups. Can measure exact point at which a former WEIRD Western country becomes non-WEIRD via migration with the ‘VOICENOTE INFLECTION POINT’ ie when at least 50% of people prefer using voicenotes vs text Image
Britain is one of the world’s most voicenote averse countries - which should be a huge source of patriotic pride for British people everywhere. Ontologically speaking as long as Britain remains comparatively allergic to voicenotes it is still fair to say that it ‘remains British’ Image
Voicenotes AKA ‘Verbal Milling Around’
Read 6 tweets
Apr 27
APATHETIC MUSEUMS IN AFRICA 🇧🇼

Interesting to think about what ‘returning Botswana’s artefacts’ ‘to give them meaning’ would look like in real life - especially since they would presumably be returned to be displayed in the country’s national museum. Presumably…

Remember visiting Botswana’s ‘National Museum’ some years ago because had the expectation that a country with interesting geography like the Kalahari desert and the Okavango delta or peoples like the Tswana or San must be able to produce a ‘fairly interesting’ museum about itself. Actually even though Botswana does not have a large population it is comparatively not ‘that’ poor so you assume there would be no real obstacles to it creating engaging displays

Unfortunately Botswana National Museum was one of worst museums I have ever visited. Space was a small dome building with a single main room decorated with a few low resolution print outs of ‘typical scenes’ of Botswana life. Mud huts in a village etc. Some traditional pots had been haphazardly placed around the ‘exhibit’, bunched up against each other according to some strange internal logic and often unlabelled. There were some traditional chairs (?) and carpets displayed in a similar way too. There were several other artefacts on podiums but they were also sparsely labelled. This was the extent of the ‘artefacts’ on show. The museum featured no panels with photos or expositions of Botswana’s history or anthropology

The second floor featured ‘artworks’ about Botswana by local artists. Most of the artwork looked like a souvenir you would buy in a tourist shop while on safari or from a tout sat selling his wares on a large sheet on the pavement; ie Pinterest-type paintings of elephants or black women. You could see everything in the museum in about fifteen minutes. I did not felt like I learned anything about Botswana from the visit. There were no other visitors at the timeImage
ABOUT THE BOTSWANA ‘HYPE’

(PICTURED: Second floor of the Botswana National Museum) Image
The two museums in North Africa I recall being ‘reasonably impressed by’ were the Bardo museum in Tunis, Tunisia and the (old) Egyptian museum in Cairo, Egypt. The latter was dusty and unorganised but had a certain kind of charm, like it had been arranged by an eccentric orientalist. Much in need of an upgrade though - as Al-Sisi obliged recentlyImage
Read 4 tweets

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